Damn you Weird Studies guys and your magical ability to create enlightening and addictive CONTENT that fills my time with wonder and keeps me from doing all the other things I think to myself I should be doing! Why must your ideas be so sticky? Your voices (whether heard or read) so entrancing and informative? Why do you both have to be so damn good at what you do?!
BTW - Only four written reviews of this book seems like an absolute crime.
Let's consider the whole book minus the last chapter (for a very good reason I will explain in a bit). For most of the book, Phil - and I hope it's OK that I call him by his first name but after listening to him on so many of his podcasts at this point it would feel odd personally to refer to him as Mr. Ford - Phil does the amazingly complete job you would expect him to do in taking what seems like a narrow subject - the idea or concept or experience of hipness - and delving into its contours to better understand its many variations and nuances from the inside out. But of course, since this is being written by the erudite Mr. Ford (in that instance I suppose it seemed right to use his last name) this seldom remains merely a spirited and insightful retelling of a history of hipness (roughly from the late 40's to the late 60's) nor does it remain only within Phil's chosen art form of music (poetry, prose, art, theater and other forms are more than covered) but also spins with an energy that continually reaches out to other philosophies, thinkers, disciplines, and conceptual frameworks across the centuries. I suppose I could go into detail about what is included in this book, but that seems less important than how it makes you feel - excited, inspired, entertained, and illuminated. Additionally, rather than being the normal tiring experience of "corroborating facts," the footnotes to his references are fountains of further knowledge and amusing asides, and I found my future reading list growing longer and longer as each marvelous page went by.
And if the book would have ended at the end of his penultimate chapter I would have found myself delighted and satisfied.
But then, Phil does as Phil does, and he took everything that came in the previous pages, every thought and seemingly idle digression, bundled it all up, and using a very-respected-by-his-peers but almost-completely-forgotten-by-everyone-else-now musician from the time - John Benson Brooks - takes the book from philosophical-historical overview to someplace completely magical and IN THIS MOMENT NOW (exactly practicing in this manner everything the hip sensibility has taught us for the last however many pages). By circling around Brooks' lost work Avant Slant along with discussing the working practice and artistic-magical-occult beliefs of Brooks, Phil not only takes us through a quick history of magical thought (a known personal interest of his) but also details a theory of "amateur practice" that can be instituted in each of our lives. Our attention to "personal signification" and "objects with saturation value" can enliven our experience in ways that everyday rationality is unable to, not that the latter is bad per se, but that life becomes so much richer and more dense with attention to and inclusion of the former.
Phil's example of listening to a stranger who is an "amateur" cellist (as an example) working their way through a classical piece as opposed to listening to a professional play is key. And it hit a very personal note with me that resonated deeply. The point Phil makes is that listening to an "amateur" stranger playing the piece "not perfectly" I might be very aware of all the mistakes they make. This experience as a listener might not be fulfilling. However, for the person who has been practicing this piece and is totally in the moment of playing it, the experience might be transcendent and transformative. That person's first hand experience is not my experience, and the better value of the whole experience should be found in the player's person. What's more - and this is really where it hit home for me - if I happened to be friends with this "amateur" player, and we knew each other for years, years in which we had experienced each other's trials and tribulations as we each attempted to practice and perfect our art, then this experience for me would suddenly be much different. In addition to the player's experience of being within the art moment, I too would be transported there through my knowledge of my friend and my sympathetic experiencing of the performance through their lens of being. Their wrong notes or timing would be meaningless next to my appreciation of their effort and joy in playing the piece. Any artist who has had a long time friend who is also an artist, where you have shared new works back and forth, even if only "amateur" works, knows this feeling through and through. Might you be the most "objective" judge of this friend's art? Who knows? Who cares? The much larger, more special, and indeed more important aspect is that you get to experience their art through your relationship to them and everything you know and have known about them. What a richer and much more full engagement that truly is. And the lesson here when looked at from the other side is that perhaps the best we can do with our lives and energies is to each find some artistic practice that we can work at, for this may be the truest way to experience experience.
To sum up, I will now be boring and predictable for anyone that bothers to regularly read my reviews... If you are not listening to the Weird Studies podcast and/or reading the books by Phil Ford and J.F. Martel, you are truly missing out on two of the great thinkers and creators of not only The Weird, but of the wider world of art, philosophy, literature, music, and straight up consciousness. You've been warned. Again.